A Hero of the Leaf
by Rasenganorshine
Summary: **repost of old story** Naruto leaves on a routine mission, but he's been acting strangely. Was it a premonition? Or just a cruel twist of fate? Originally posted in 2008.


A/N: Please note that **this is a repost.** I'm uploading my (very) old work with little to no editing onto this account for archiving purposes. The manga was just an arc or so into the timeskip when I first posted this, so of course it doesn't touch on anything that happened later on. Thank you for reading!

 **Originally published:** 01-13-08, Updated: 02-07-08

* * *

 **A Hero of the Leaf**

* * *

 ** **1: The Memorial****

* * *

In the cool, wet dawn Kakashi limped his way unhurriedly to the monument. It was one of the few constants in his life—whenever he was in Konoha, in between missions, he always found himself there. He counted on its solitude, a place for him to lose himself among old friends and bittersweet memories.

But on this particular morning, someone else crouched at the monument, staring at the names with a strange intensity. At first he thought it might be Iruka; the academy teacher was one of the few that still haunted the stone. They never spoke on such occasions; the two shinobi simply stood in mutual silence, until the dawn broke and Iruka returned to his duties at the academy.

This morning the intruder was not the chuunin instructor. Kakashi's visible eyebrow rose slightly as he recognized the bright hair of the young ninja—it was the last person he'd ever expected to see.

"Naruto?"

The blond jumped, noticing him for the first time. "Oh—hi, Kakashi-sensei."

"Looking for something?"

"Nah, just thinking." The younger ninja seemed unusually subdued this morning; he said nothing more, just gazed at the stone. Kakashi was content with the silence, and his thoughts wandered to other days…to old comrades, long dead. He didn't need to search for their names; he'd memorized their places long ago.

"Ne, Kakashi-sensei," Naruto's voice interrupted his reverie. "Do you remember when you told us about this thing?"

Kakashi's eye curved into a smile. "I remember you were eager to have your name on it—until you realized it was a memorial for the dead."

"It wouldn't be so bad…" Naruto mused. "If it happened, I mean." He looked up and gave Kakashi a grin. "It would mean I'd died protecting the village, right? That's just like being Hokage!"

The jounin frowned under his mask. This was strange talk, even for Naruto. Especially for Naruto. "Is something wrong, Naruto?"

The blond didn't answer right away, staring instead off into the forest, where the fog was already lifting as the sun wound its first golden rays among the trees. "I had a funny dream, sensei," he said at last. "It was raining in Konoha."

"Oh?" Kakashi lifted an eyebrow.

Naruto got up and stretched lightly, either unaware of or ignoring his teacher's confusion. "I don't like the rain," he announced. "I want the sun to be shining!" He glanced at the memorial stone again and nodded slowly. "The sun always outlasts the rain."

Naruto departed, leaving Kakashi with more than just memories to contemplate. That had been easily the strangest conversation he'd ever had, and the fact that it had been with Naruto made it all the stranger. What had put his former student in such a philosophical mood? At last he sighed and squinted at the rising sun. It was about time to make an appearance at the hospital—he'd neglected to check himself out, after all.

As he turned to go, he tried to shake off Naruto's strange words. Dreams, after all, had nothing to do with reality…

* * *

 ** **2: Three Things  
****

* * *

"I still can't believe that they put me on a different team," Naruto complained loudly, ignoring (or perhaps oblivious to) the dirty looks he received from several medics. "Just because Kakashi-sensei's in the hospital—again—and Obaa-chan wants you to figure out some stupid snake spit…"

"Tsunade-sama," Sakura corrected absently, studying a translucent greenish substance that oozed sluggishly when she tilted the petri dish. "And it's a rare form of venom. If we can figure out a way to synthesize it and its antidote, it will be very valuable to our hunter nin."

Naruto came behind her to get a closer look; he scrunched his face as he peered at the venom. "Still looks like spit to me."

Sakura wrinkled her nose as he leaned over her shoulder, realizing it wasn't just the medicinal herbs that were making her eyes water. "I hope this isn't a stealth mission you're going on—unless you plan to hide out in a bath house."

"That's mean, Sakura-chan," Naruto sulked, pretending to be hurt. "I just came here to say goodbye…"

"It's just a mission, right?" Sakura painstakingly measured out an ounce of strong-smelling oil and tilted it into the beaker. "You'll be back soon."

"Y-yeah." Sakura frowned and turned to look at her teammate, but he was grinning broadly, no trace of the uncertainty from an instant before on his sunny face; she must have imagined it. "I'll be back in no time!" he exclaimed, poking his thumb at his chest. "I'm Konoha's number one ninja!"

"Number one moron, you mean," she teased, nudging him with her shoulder. He never failed to make her smile. "Promise?" she asked on impulse.

Naruto looked uncertain. "Sakura-chan?"

"Come on, promise you'll come back soon," she was half teasing, half serious. "I thought that was your 'ninja way'."

He laughed and scratched the back of his head. "Okay, okay…I promise."

* * *

Hinata never saw it coming.

She was in a quiet part of the training grounds; Neji-niisan had a mission and couldn't spar that morning, so instead she practiced her strikes, thrusting chakra into her fingertips with elegant precision as she attacked an old sawdust practice dummy hung from a pole. It was more challenging that attacking a real person, because it didn't have tenketsu; but she was also free to release chakra into her strikes without causing anyone harm.

Her accuracy and speed had improved—or, so she hoped. Father's expressions were always difficult to read, and Neji always won their matches. But their morning sessions had grown longer, and Neji's mock blows did not brush her skin quite so often.

The first time she had fought her cousin after the Chuunin exams, Hinata had been terrified. It was all she could do to hide it from her father; she knew that Neji saw it with one glance. But strangely enough, he did not mock her; he merely studied her for a moment, with eyes so much like her own, and corrected her stance before they began. He was not gentle. Even without the use of chakra in their strikes, he could be a fearful opponent. But when she kept picking herself back up, he kept pushing her on to new levels of speed and endurance.

She _had_ become strong, Hinata told herself firmly, quashing old uncertainties with each fluid, deadly movement. She'd become a Chuunin; she'd even beaten her teammate Kiba to the rank. Since her promotion—now more than a year ago—the Hyuuga had been on numerous C and B ranked missions. Hyuuga Hinata was a true ninja, just as she'd promised in that long-ago match with Neji.

 _And I'll keep getting stronger!_ White eyes blazed with determination as she drove the final strike into the dummy's abdomen. Although she stopped just short of touching, she saw the impact ripple across the worn burlap and heard the soft whoosh of air as sawdust blew out the back. The manikin sagged disconsolately for a moment, then tumbled to the ground, little more than a heap of cloth and sawdust.

Hinata let out a breath and returned her hands to her sides. She was about to deactivate her byukagan when she became aware of someone standing on the edge of the small field she'd been training in—and not just _anyone_. Hinata muffled a small gasp with her hands; she could already feel the blood rushing to her face. She whirled around to find Naruto staring with undisguised astonishment.

"N-Naruto-kun!" she clasped her hands nervously, her confidence of a moment before vanishing like the wind.

"Hinata…" he seemed to have trouble finding his voice. "That—that was amazing, Hinata!" He ran out into the field, bending over the dummy and staring at it in amazement. Naruto looked up and grinned at her. "You're really good!"

"I try," she said with a quiet smile, although she was singing inside. "I-I've been practicing hard, ever since, um…" she blushed and looked at her toes. "I think I'm getting better," she finished lamely.

He nodded seriously, although the sparkle never left his eyes. "Definitely! You'll be a jounin like just like Neji soon!" Naruto's grin lit up his whole face and lightened her heart—his eyes were so confident when he said it, she couldn't help but believe him. "Stay strong, Hinata!"

She smiled. Even through all his blustering, he somehow always found the right words to make her brave.

"Um…" she realized it couldn't be by accident that he had come here; the training ground she had chosen was pretty remote. "Did you come here to train?"

"Nah, I've got a mission," he jerked a thumb at the backpack she hadn't registered him wearing.

"But then… why are you here?" Hinata shook her head in confusion. The gates were in the opposite direction.

He scratched the back of his head self-consciously. "Well, it's—this mission, it-it's…and…I w-wanted…" She stared as he turned bright red, stuttering himself into silence. It was strange, to be on the receiving end of such a dialogue. "Aw, heck," he said at last, smiling sheepishly. "This is so hard…"

"I-Is there something you need?" she asked uncertainly.

"Um, no, it's actually—well…" his grin was getting strained. "Here!" He burst out suddenly, and grabbed her. She stiffened in surprise as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and gave her a tight squeeze.

Hinata couldn't react—she just stood there, mouth slightly open, white eyes wide and staring. He let go and stepped back quickly.

Naruto grinned a little nervously. If she thought he'd blushed before, he was flaming now; judging from the heat she felt in her cheeks, she must look even redder. He rocked back on his heels and laced his fingers under the straps of his pack. "Yeah, well, that was it! Uh… I'd better not be late, so… yeah. Bye, Hinata!" And with that, he took off in the direction of the village gate.

Hinata's hand drifted up to where his hair had brushed her cheek. He'd smelled of sweat and miso and… bath salts, for some reason. She turned and gazed after him for a long time. When at last she resumed her training, she really did sing.

* * *

Jiraiya remembered the day he'd finished Naruto's summon training—the final stage, where he had thrown Naruto off a cliff on the gamble that he'd learn to use the power inside him instead of dying. On that day, he'd prepared his student for his 'death'; declaring that a clean body, a full stomach, and a light heart were the only things anyone needed. It was somewhat melodramatic, but what he'd told Naruto was true.

Maybe he should have suspected something was up when he strolled by Icharaku's midmorning and saw them closing shop, every last bowl piled used and empty on the counter. He certainly found it surprising when during a 'research' session he saw his teenaged student approach the bath house, alone and somewhat nervous—which for Naruto meant being as loud and cheerful as possible.

The noisy ninja paid and disappointed Jiraiya by vanishing into the proper side of the bath house; the dratted boy had no idea what he was missing by not employing his sexy no jutsu technique—the secret of which Jiraiya had never been able to weasel out of him. It gave the old hermit a nosebleed just to think about the possibilities. But as five young women entered the bath house together, Jiraiya quickly forgot about his student's unusual behavior.

That is, until that afternoon, when he found himself waiting at the gate. He watched his student pass under the arch of the gates, headed out of Konoha.

"Naruto."

The blond nin stopped and looked back, his oddly thoughtful expression turning to surprise. "Ero-sennin?"

Jiraiya twitched at the undignified nickname, but let it go—not that it had ever done him any good to protest it. He studied his former student's light knapsack, the ever present orange jacket and pants, the worn and dented forehead protector worn proudly across his forehead. "Mission?"

Naruto frowned at the odd question. "Yeah."

"Not far?"

"Just to Grass."

"Not far, then." The Sannin leaned against the gatepost and smirked. "Don't get yourself killed by accident; you'll give me a bad reputation."

Naruto grinned mischievously. "You don't _have_ a reputation to keep up, Ero-sennin."

"Watch it you," Jiraiya growled. "I'm legendary enough to take you out."

"Yeah, pick on me—since you couldn't take any woman out."

"Is that so?" Jiraiya glowered, cracking his knuckles slowly.

Naruto raised his hands in surrender, wisely backing away. "Well, heheh, Neji and everybody are waiting up ahead, I gotta go. See ya!" He fled, turning back once to wave cheekily as he jumped into the trees before he vanished in a streak of orange and gold.

"Brat," Jiraiya muttered, but couldn't help the swirl of unease he felt as his student disappeared from view. "You'd better be back."

* * *

 ** **3: Too Soon****

* * *

Naruto did return—far too soon, for an escort mission to the Grass.

Sakura remembered dashing through the hospital, taking to the ceiling when the floor grew too crowded with medics, seeing an unresponsive Lee being rushed into surgery, catching a glimpse of TenTen supporting Neji, both streaked with the jounin's blood—but all of this was background to the bloodied form she glimpsed amidst a cluster of medic nin, all of them working in grim silence.

She took his hand, feeling the erratic pulse under tissue-thin skin that bruised instantly beneath her fingers. She recognized the damage; Kyuubi's four-tailed form had done the same, that day they had faced Orochimaru. She had healed him then, and he'd survived, even going on to fight again.

But this time…it was too much. Sakura bit her lip, clutching the side of the steel gurney until steel buckled. She could see atrophied muscles collapse and bleed under translucent skin, despite the steady hiss of chakra, within and without. There was too much to regenerate, too much to heal. Each slow, labored rise of his chest was a battle against its own frailty—seeming to collapse on itself with each exhale, only to rebuild again for another tortuous breath.

A slight pressure to her fingers made her eyes fly to his face. He was _conscious?_

"Sa…chan…" Eyes moved restlessly beneath closed lids.

"Hush, don't speak," she urged him, exchanging frightened glances with Shizune. Blood trickled in a steady stream from the side of his mouth, screaming of internal injuries; Sakura was terrified by the ashy paleness of his face against the angry red where skin had not regrown. She channeled chakra into her fingers, healing the bruises she had caused on his wrist, strengthening the multiple fractures she could sense in the bones beneath the tissue.

Tsunade had both hands over the remnants of Naruto's seal, her face a mask of stony concentration as she fought to save the young shinobi. None of the others spoke; Sakura could tell from their resigned, set faces that they already knew what she had guessed—and which was confirmed with every slowing beat of the pulse beneath her hands.

Tsunade's expression never changed, her chakra never wavered; but one by one, tears fell from her amber eyes and splashed against Naruto's stomach.

What might have been a chuckle or a cough shook his chest. "That…tickles, Obaa-chan," he whispered. A short, sharp sob was the hokage's only response. "Don' cry…"

"Naruto," Sakura said.

"Sa…kura-chan…" For the first time, his eyes opened. They wandered aimlessly, seared a cloudy white. He smiled, a heartbreaking echo of his old carefree expression, looking strangely content. "I kept… my promise."

She counted the beats of his heart; listened to them peter out as if it were the last sound on earth. The final beat died without an echo. He was still smiling.

* * *

She never saw it coming.

The Hyuuga house had heard quickly of Neji's disastrous mission, and Hinata had slipped away to find him. They may once have been bitter rivals, but Hinata loved and respected the young jounin. He was her cousin; he had become her teacher, and in his own silent way, her protector. Her friend. So she went to support him as she could. But in the chaotic emergency room, she couldn't find Neji.

Instead… She found someone else.

Hinata stumbled through the swinging doors, somehow unnoticed amid the havoc.

She stopped in surprise when she saw Sakura crying hysterically, crouched on the floor. Tsunade, the strong, confident leader of Konoha, stood with shoulders bowed, Shizune hovering at her elbow; the Sannin looked closer to her true age than Hinata had ever seen her. The chaos just outside was muted abruptly in here, where no one shouted, and the bright green glow of healing was notably absent. There were no urgent orders, no aides running back and forth, or medics forming chakra. Everyone just…stood. Defeat hung tangible in the air.

Someone had died.

Hinata was seized with a sudden terror, fingers going numb as invisible bands tightened around her chest. Her eyes were drawn like a magnet to the table, where the rest looked down with sober faces.

 _No._

She knew him at once, though the bright blonde hair was stiff and dark with blood, and the blue eyes closed.

 _No._

Hinata went rigid; every bit of her had turned to cold, cold ice. It was supposed to be Neji-niisan's team, wasn't it? Not his…not him… not Naruto.

 _No!_

She felt the world would fly to pieces all around her. Time splintered into a thousand moments of memory and dreams, shattered before she could even see it fully. She tried with dry lips to form his name, but only the barest of sounds escaped her. _Naruto…_ "-kun…"

In that moment, she teetered on the edge. Hinata wanted desperately to scream, to faint, to Jyuuken everyone in the room until none were left standing—to do something—nothing—anything, because he—

Sakura's heartbroken cries seeped through her wild thoughts. Hinata stared; trembled. Dropped her hand from the door; it swung shut on silent hinges and cut off the noise of the hall as abruptly as a guillotine.

She took one step. Another. Walked into the room.

So close to him…she could see his broken body, and even with the Byukagan at rest knew that she would not find a breath or a heartbeat there…and never again…

Hinata knelt and put her hands on Sakura's shaking shoulders. "Sakura," she said gently, quietly. Honorifics seemed so trivial in that moment.

The pink-haired kunoichi raised her head, looking at Hinata with a face blotched red and puffy from crying. Sakura blinked through her tears, slow recognition dawning in her eyes. "Hi-Hinata?"

White eyes met pale green; they both understood. Hinata knew only one person understood the utter hollowness she felt; and that was Sakura. His teammate. The girl who had known him best and longest. The one who had seen him—as a brother? As something more? It hardly mattered. She'd loved him. But perhaps…never realized it until now.

Hinata opened her mouth—and stopped. What was she about to say? It's okay? They both knew it would never be okay, not really, ever again.

Sakura raised a hand uncertainly, searching Hinata's face with dazed eyes. "Naruto…he…" she choked and burst into a new bout of tears. Hinata dropped to her knees on the floor beside her; wrapped her arms around the other kunoichi's shoulders, resting her chin on Sakura's head, as her own tears splashed on the cold hospital floor.

* * *

 ** **4: The Promise****

* * *

Tsunade pressed her palms into her eyes, willing away the headache that pulsed against her temple. She sighed; leaned her elbows against the windowsill. Her amber eyes took in the clear, quiet dawn. It was a beautiful day; how ironic.

She turned to the faces of her predecessors as she had so many times before-and stiffened. Tsunade blinked in surprise. The hokage straightened and peered closer, but there was no mistaking it in the golden light that spilled across the weathered features of the monument. She sat back and gave a short laugh, shaking her head. "Of all the..."

"I like it," Jiraiya spoke from behind her. "Minato never looked that serious when he was alive, anyway."

She turned around and raised an eyebrow at him. "Hmm. I think we both know who did this."

The white-haired sannin lounged against her desk, elbows on the paperwork that she had been neglecting for days. He scratched his chin thoughtfully, cupping his elbow in his other hand. "Ebisu did mention that Sarutobi's brat was getting better at earth techniques."

She sighed. "At least it's not graffiti this time."

"True." Jiraiya moved to stand beside her; he eyed the monument thoughtfully. "I don't think I've ever seen earth jutsu so… creatively applied. The kid has potential."

Tsunade snorted. "Potential for trouble, perhaps. Konoha won't survive another prankster growing up here. That brat's already trying to outdo Naruto..." She wrapped her arms around herself, expression softening. "Naruto always was his hero." She turned back to the window, battling the all too familiar despair that tried to overtake her.

The hokage rubbed her fingers against her palms absently. She could still feel Naruto's blood on them, blending with Dan's and her brother's. They were the people who she'd loved more than anything, but couldn't save. Even after years of experience, and with all her power, Tsunade hadn't been able to change the genin's fate.

She and Sakura shared more than the apprentice realized, Tsunade reflected. Both of them were forever being left behind by those they loved. Surpassed in power, broken with betrayal…abandoned by death. Tsunade only wished that Sakura hadn't followed her path so early; for now the young kunoichi would have to accept that no matter what, she couldn't save everyone. Not even the ones that meant everything. There was a difference to being strong, and strong enough.

There was never a strong enough.

Somehow, fate had decided that twice wasn't enough to learn this lesson. This new blow nearly destroyed already battered heart, and she almost wanted to leave it all behind again—if only to escape the painful reminders that haunted this place. It would be so easy to return to that life of running. But…

Tsunade smiled.

She couldn't get out of it that easily. Not with the memory of that fierce young face glaring back at her, daring her to go back on her word. She was the Godaime because of that look, full of determination and promises of a brighter future. Naruto had changed her—as he had so many people. She had seen time and again his power to alter lives for the better, borne often by his sheer, stubborn refusal to accept things as they were. Even after his death, she could not shake his influence.

Naruto had fought to protect his people to the end…like a true hokage. He would be remembered among the great, as long as Konoha stood under the mountain. Whether we like it or not, Tsunade added to herself with a wry smile, seeing Konohamaru's handiwork.

* * *

Hinata knew Neji was watching her. Her cousin's concern was palpable, though he himself had barely left intensive care that morning. Shino stood beside her in silent support; Kiba knelt at her feet, his hand buried in Akamaru's thick ruff, one elbow brushing against her leg as he stared glassy-eyed into the distance. The touch was as much for his comfort as for hers. Akamaru whined softly and leaned against his master.

Hinata kept her head high; that in itself was strange, but she didn't care. It was for him, and her respect was all she had left to give him. She played absently with the white rose in her hands, waiting for the moment when each person could pay their respects to the fallen shinobi. From her place she could see the faces of those who had loved him most—Tsunade, statue-still and dry-eyed, Sakura, head bowed, Team Seven's sensei, Hatake Kakashi, standing with his slouch more pronounced than usual, silvery hair drooping over his visible eye.

Hinata knew she did not have the right to grieve as they did; they were his team, his family. The ones he had depended upon above all others. But… The Hyuuga closed her eyes, remembering the brush of soft hair, and the smell of miso and bath salts. She couldn't help but feel that a little part of him was hers.

Tears trailed down her pale cheeks, glittering in the sunshine that was far too bright for a funeral. But she couldn't keep the small smile off her face. He had died a hero. She was proud. She would stay strong for him, even though his death made her heart ache sharply. It was a promise she'd keep for a lifetime.

* * *

Sakura didn't know how Hinata could be so brave. She couldn't even look at him; they were ready to burn Naruto's body, and she couldn't look. The kunoichi hugged herself, clutching the black, somber fabric of her funeral clothes with fingers that wouldn't stop trembling. She closed her eyes against the warm light that screamed against her inner turmoil.

She'd worn her forehead protector around her neck today, allowing the pink bangs to fall softly over her face. Sakura needed a shield from the world; she didn't want anyone's compassion or comfort, not even Kakashi-sensei's.

Her team had crumbled into nothing around her. Sasuke had never returned, not even when Itachi had vanished. Naruto was beyond her reach. He'd left so many promises behind…promises that now, he could never see through to the end. So she hid behind her hair as she hadn't since childhood, hoping in vain that it would veil her tears.

There had been too many tears. Too many times she'd been left behind, only to weep as she watched her teammates getting farther and farther away. Sakura was sick of tears…but she didn't know how to stop them. Or even if she should. Naruto…why? She begged silently. Why you too?

Sakura didn't hear the gasps from the shinobi around her. She didn't see a dozen hands reaching for weapons, or the sharp motion from the Hokage that stopped them short. Footsteps approached; she looked up in surprise when a hand settled on her shoulder.

"Sakura." He looked down at her with that half concerned, half awkward, slightly annoyed expression she remembered from the rare times when—long ago—he'd tried to comfort her. His hand was warm, real, tightening on her shoulder; she could feel the criss-cross of scars and calluses on his palm through the thin black fabric, as his breath stirred a few strands of her bangs. He was there. He wasthere.

"Hey," was all she could find to say. There was too much pain in the moment to be glad to see him.

She caught a flicker of empathy deep in the coal black eyes, seared sharply there by his haunted past, by grief old and new. "Hey."

He turned and looked at the pyre. Sakura steeled herself and looked with him. The morticians had done a good job. She couldn't even see the many wounds they had failed to close—though it might have been an elaborate henge. It was so strange to see him lying still and orderly on the wooden platform. He had always been messy, even in sleep. He had never worn formal clothes, never been so still…never been so quiet. Everything about the sight felt so…wrong.

"The sun shouldn't be shining like this," Sakura murmured, feeling tears gathering yet again in her eyes. Hadn't there been enough? Hadn't there been enough tears for one day? Wouldn't she ever stop crying?

"No." Sasuke raised his face to the sky, letting the bright sun warm his pale, scarred features. "It suits him."

He was right, Sakura realized. Naruto, in his own crazy, mixed up way, would have loved it. The weather was just like him, bright and in your face, defying all the sadness in the world. It made her smile, if just a little. He always did know how to make her smile…

"Looks like that idiot really did bring me back."

Sakura looked at her teammate, putting her hand over the one still on her shoulder and squeezing it gently. "Yes; he did."

* * *

~ end ~


End file.
